The Farwalker's Quest (11 page)

Scarl tugged at her tether, which he'd lashed to a ring on the leather pad that protected Orion's back. He said, “If you jump, or even fall off by mistake, you'll be broken under Orion's hooves. Or dragged twenty feet before I can stop him. I don't recommend it.”

“But I can't hold on!” She looked wistfully at the mane before her.

His arms reached around either side of her to take up the reins. “Use your legs. I won't lose you if you don't lose yourself.”

Her legs clung against the horse's shoulders as best they could. She nodded.

“All right,” Scarl told her. “Keep on like this and you might even survive to the end of our journey.”

The thought of more horrors awaiting broke through her numbness. She dared a question.

“Where are you taking me?”

He nudged the horse into a walk, then a gentle lope. Even Ariel could feel how much more easily Orion moved, free of his lopsided burden.

The cold wind had pricked more tears to her eyes before Scarl finally answered her question. His voice might almost have been the night wind swirling into her ear.

“To your future.”

Ariel's efforts to remember their route proved futile. No moon or stars lit their way, and every shadowy tree they whisked past looked the same as the next. Now and then the horse veered or lurched up a hill, but otherwise they could have been crossing a kelp-shrouded seabed.

Though riding Orion was better than being cargo, the horse's withers rubbed blisters and bruises on Ariel's bare legs. More painful yet was the sore in her heart, put there by the knowledge that Canberra Docks was falling much farther behind her than anyone in the village had ever been.

As the sky finally paled for dawn, Scarl stopped the horse. Blearily, Ariel took in the world around her. The woods had given way to choppy hills covered mostly with scrub. The air smelled not of seawater but grass. Even if she escaped, she wouldn't know which way to run.

At Scarl's bidding and with his help, she scissored one leg over Orion's neck and slid down to her feet. At first, her legs nearly collapsed. They felt warped.

“You'll have time to stretch them,” Scarl said, as he jumped down himself. “We'll be walking from here.”

“Where are we?”

Instead of answering, he led her like a goat on a leash to a nearby patch of witch broom.

“Do your business, if you've a mind to,” he said, turning his back.

“Here?” She cringed, loath to attend to such private matters with him standing so near.

“Unless you see a privy.” The hiss of his own relief raked Ariel's ears. The sound also tugged at her bladder, which indeed ached from hours of terror and jouncing.

Flesh burning, she tucked herself as far behind the prickly shrub as her leash would permit. Some things were easier for boys. Squatting, she confronted a new dilemma.

“But I can't take down my drawers with no hands.” Tears clotted her throat. This indignity rivaled any of the rough handling to which she'd been treated that night.

Expecting him to be as cold to this care as any other, she was surprised when he pulled her back to her feet.

“There are worse things,” he said. But he untied her wrists and reknotted the rope with her hands together in front so she could manage the task. “Don't make me regret this.”

“I won't,” she promised. A flush of gratitude angered her.

Compared to the prospect of wetting her underpants, the lack of a wipe or washbasin seemed a minor concern. When she turned back to him, red-faced, she expected to see him peeking and snickering as the village boys might have done. Instead, he stared away from her to the approaching dawn, one hand clenching his nape as if he were disturbed by the rose-petal hues.

He led her to a rock outcrop with a spring bubbling at its base. After lashing Ariel's tether to another sturdy shrub, Scarl hobbled Orion's forelegs, wrapping them near the hoof with a short rope to prevent the horse from wandering far. Freed of his burden, Orion rolled gratefully and then plunged his nose into the spring, slurping and snorting. Bitterly Ariel licked her dry lips. The horse had more freedom than she did.

She shuddered inside her thin nightgown and curled tighter for warmth. Without the cruel shelter of Scarl's body or the heat rising from the horse, she was freezing.

“I'm cold,” she said, when Scarl came to sit near her.

“Not much help for it before Elbert gets here. He didn't trust that I'd wait if I had any gear.” He kicked off his boots and stretched his long legs before retying the far end of her tether to his own wrist. Ariel watched closely. She'd best learn the knot if she could hope somehow to untie it.

He lay back as if to sleep. With hope rising inside her, she scanned the hard ground for weapons—a rock to bang on his head, a stick to poke into his eye. Her chances of escape would shrink greatly once two men guarded her. But even after Scarl's lids closed, her slightest movement drew his attention. Hoping to lull him asleep, she held still for long stretches, but one of his eyelids kept flashing open. Finally she gave up and lay down herself, turning her back to her captor.

The ground drained out any warmth her body still had. Her teeth chattered.

A movement rustled behind her. “Here. Draw a bit closer.”

She turned her head. He'd removed his oilcloth coat and spread it wide to cover them both. Ariel eyed it with longing. Then some harder emotion slipped over her heart. With a baleful glare, she turned back into her huddle. She didn't want to
be any closer to someone so awful, not even for a measure of warmth.

After a moment, heavy oilcloth dropped on her. She whirled indignantly, squirming away. But he hadn't moved nearer. Without a glance in her direction, he lay back down where he'd been. Ariel had the coat to herself.

She drew it around tight, leaving herself just a slit to breathe through. Gritting her teeth to stop their chatter, she gripped her only touchstone to home, the green bead at her throat. With morning birds chirping as though nothing was wrong, Ariel waited to hear snoring.

Her head buzzed with exhaustion, but sore limbs and a sore spirit kept her awake. She yearned for her warm bed, her home, and especially her mother. Her chest felt as if vital fluids were flowing out from a hole in her heart. The longer it leaked, the more hollow the rest of her felt. Yet one burning irony remained: only a half day ago she had, impossibly, wanted to leave all those things that she loved.

Watching clouds mount on the horizon like an assembling rescue squad, Ariel told herself they hinted that someone was coming. A dread veil hid her mother's fate from her, but Luna wouldn't come searching in any case. She'd send others who were able to fight—Jeshua, maybe, along with some Fishers. Slowly warming under the oilcloth, Ariel fell into a half-waking dream where a band from Canberra Docks raced through the forest on a trail of hoofprints, shouting their rage. They might even have Elbert, bound and gagged, to lead them. They would never stop to rest but would hurry on, hurry on, until they found her and saved her. They could arrive anytime.

In the next days, Ariel clung to that dream like a dog with a bone. Slowly, gnawed by time and distance, it shrank.

Thunder began rumbling midday as though answering Ariel's stomach. When rain splattered Scarl's clothes, he sat up and moved farther under the witch broom's meager protection. He shivered in the ensuing downpour. Afraid he'd take his coat back, Ariel pulled it more snugly around her and pretended to sleep.

She jerked when Scarl's hands moved to his coat. A whimper escaped despite her resolve not to give him the pleasure of knowing her misery.

“Rest easy. I just want something out of a pocket.” He rummaged. Withdrawing a strip of dried fish, he tore it and passed half to her. The familiar salty taste redoubled her homesickness without really soothing her hunger.

“Can I get a drink?” she asked, trying to decide whether to scoop water with her bound hands or simply throw herself onto her belly and slurp like the horse.

Scarl retrieved a battered tin cup from another coat pocket. “Dip it shallow,” he said, handing it to her, “and you'll drink less mud.”

After quenching her thirst, she ventured another question. “When will Elbert get here?”

Scarl's dark eyes flicked to her. “When he does.”

“Does he know where we are?”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “He'll find us.”

He was not overly fond of words, plainly, but his responses were so prompt now, she tried again. She was afraid of the answer, but she couldn't bear the black uncertainty, either.

“Was he hurting my mother?”

Inhaling deeply, Scarl looked her straight in the eyes. “I told him to tie her and gag her, that's all. As long as it takes a while for her to be found, we'll have too much head start to be followed.”

Ariel dismissed the head start. Her rescuers would overcome that. She wanted badly to believe the rest that he'd said. It would have been easier if his gaze hadn't slid to the wet ground the moment he finished speaking.

“I'm the one who has hurt her the most,” he added, not looking up. “By taking you.” His face never softened.

After both the rain and the brightest spot in the clouds had passed overhead, Ariel fell into an uncomfortable sleep. She awoke to voices in the twilight.

“—soaking wet, you dolt. You've gone soft.” Ariel recognized Elbert's scornful rumble.

“I'll dry,” Scarl said. “We've gone to a lot of trouble to let her die in her sleep.”

“It's been fun, though. I left a few tokens for them to remember us by.”

Alarm filled Scarl's voice. “Elbert! Like what? We don't need them on our heels.”

Elbert snickered. “They couldn't locate us if they tried. I made sure of that.”

Ariel jumped up—or tried to. Her body was so sore and stiff that it took several seconds for her to stand.

Both men watched from nearby. Ariel could see fatigue through the amused contempt on Elbert's face. He must have tramped hard to catch them.

“Where's my mother?” she cried. “What have you done?”

“I tried to convince her to come with us.” Elbert smacked his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “I should have thought of that sooner. You could have both ridden the horse. But in the end, she decided she'd rather stay home and await your return.” Ariel could have almost believed him, if not for the gleam in his eyes.

“I hate you.”

He clutched his chest. “But I am so fond of you!” He winked. “My April Fool princess.” From that moment, Elbert rarely referred to her as anything else. Ariel soon preferred Scarl's frank harshness to Elbert's charades.

With night falling, Scarl lit a fire using flamesticks from Elbert's overstuffed pack. His burden had included Ariel's boots and her knapsack, which she'd never had time to unpack. Elbert had already plundered her food, but she yanked out warmer clothes, pulling her sweater right over her nightgown. The sight of the yellow skirt her mother had sewn hitched Ariel's breath in her throat.

The messenger pigeons roasted over the fire. Glowering, Ariel refused her share. Scarl silently passed her crackers and cheese from their larder instead. She wanted to refuse that, too, but her hands wouldn't obey her. Wolfing the food, she soon felt ill.

“Are you sure you don't want some meat, princess?” Elbert
teased as the men ate. “It's delicious. The new Kincaller, I expect, would be pleased.”

“Would you have done that if my mother had let me come with you?” Ariel demanded. “Would you still have tied me up as soon as no one could see?”

Elbert sucked a bone, debating. “Your friend Scarl there may not have let me. For a child snatcher, he's rather kindly, it seems.” His eyes measured Scarl, who returned the gaze without expression.

“I suppose as long as you came along nicely,” Elbert continued, “we could have kept up the game for some time. At least until I wanted pigeon for dinner, eh?”

“Keep eating,” Ariel spat. “I'll pray that it chokes you.”

Elbert's lips twisted into a grin that only emphasized the chill in his eyes. “Careful, my lady. You're the one who should be dead. My companion convinced me you might be worth more alive. Don't prove him wrong.”

Ariel blinked, trying to understand. “Because I found the telling dart?” The notion seemed ludicrous. Why would that make them want to harm her—particularly once they'd taken it from her?

When Elbert ignored her, Ariel's gaze slid to Scarl. He avoided her look but gave her a curt shake of his head, not answering her question but telling her to drop it.

Too tired to make sense of it all, Ariel took refuge in spite. She yanked at her rope just as Scarl raised his hands to his mouth for a bite. Elbert laughed heartily. The first time, Scarl just shot her a warning glare. The second time, he jerked back hard enough to topple her over, then looped the rope under one of his boots to make slack between there and his wrist.

“Very good, princess!” Elbert said. “Merriment with our meal. You may earn the Fool name. Can you tell jokes? Sing a song?”

Ariel tried to think of a smart retort. She was too appalled that she had ever wanted to travel with them.

After eating, they settled to sleep. Ariel curled into an unfamiliar wool blanket. Closing her eyes, she sank like a stone into a pool of forgetting.

A tug at her leash awoke her the next morning. The men had already packed their gear on the horse. After a meager breakfast, they set off. Ariel didn't dare resist much, but she dragged her heels until the rope's pull at her wrists made them sore.

Their campsite dwindled behind her. She craned her neck to look back at what felt like her last bridge to home. Once that outpost had vanished, she truly felt lost.